


Holy **** I have a Soulmate

by AKAuthor



Series: We Call Everything on the Ice 'Love' [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Both happy and sad, Comedy, Crying, FANBOY YUURI, Lovebites, M/M, Mornings, Panic Attacks, Romantic Soulmates, Switching bodies, Veterinary Clinic, Yuuri wakes up as Makka, body switching, like totally, not in that way, sort of fluffy, trigger warning, viktor switches, viktor's crotch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-14 22:37:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9207641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AKAuthor/pseuds/AKAuthor
Summary: Before Yuuri met him, he switched bodies with his soulmates best friend so he could get to know his soulmate before they met-the first time this happened Yuuri was rather surprised to have a tail.Soulmate Body-Switch AU -Yuuri switches with his soulmates best friend, who happens to be a dog.And Viktor switches with his soulmates best friend who is a puppy -strangely like Makkachin... and how does his soulmate know to call him Viktor!?This is now complete with Viktor as Vicchan.





	1. Waking Up with a Tail -WTF Did I Take Last Night?

**Author's Note:**

> No real idea where this came from, but hopefully it's okay. Let me know what you think, and what you would like to see in the future!

The phenomenon of soulmates and switches was a true mystery to science, not wholly unlike deep space or the depths of the Southern Sea. Between soulmates ,throughout their lives until they meet, they will find themselves occasionally inhabiting the closest friend of their soulmate. The generally accepted idea behind this is so you can get to know your soulmate before you meet, and there is no better way than through the eyes of their best friend.

 

Yuuri Katsuki never once switched until the age of eighteen, and when it happened, he was understandably confused and excited. He had been working on homework in his room, quite happy as the wind howled outside. To his knowledge, his soulmate had never switched with someone close to him- if they had they managed to act very natural. For Yuuri however, waking up in a stranger’s body, ready to see his soulmate had never been so unlikely in his imagination.

Blearily opening his eyes, unsure as to why he was awake, Yuuri first noticed that his bedroom had changed, and not only that, it was early morning. The bed was a metal four-poster, with a mattress on the firmer side, soft white sheets that were completely tanged, and a single occupant, lying on their front with their head to the left. Their feet shifted under the plush white and grey duvet, dislodging Yuuri’s arm, this was clearly what woke him up. Frowning, Yuuri made to sit up, but it was awkward, he didn’t feel balanced and had to rest his weight on his arms.

Unsure, the Japanese teen looked down, and promptly fell of the large bed with a yelp, squirming and wriggling in alarm. Yuuri was a dog, not wholly unlike his own Vicchan at home. Curly brown fur everywhere, a jangling of tags on his collar and -

Holy fuck Yuuri had a _tail_.

 

The general alarm of the situation overtook Yuuri’s mind and he let out a wail, groaning and swearing in Japanese, regardless of the strange whines and grunt his dog form was letting out. In his panic, Yuuri also failed to notice the figure from the bed standing, wide awake in light of their best friend letting out pained barks. A pair of hands stroked over brown ears, and Yuuri would have noticed how nice it felt had he not been confused by the accent. It was thick Russian, and Yuuri assumed he was probably actually understanding the European language.

Allowing himself to be calmed with pets, Yuuri’s eyes travelled upwards, and landed on a nearly naked male form.

And his eyes were level and disturbingly close to a crotch.

Pulling away so he could meet the eyes of his soulmate, Yuuri’s heart exploded and his newly acquired tail thumped loudly on the floor. Viktor Nikiforov was kneeling in front of him, hands touching his face, bare chest on display in the warm sunlight filling the room,and crotch very close to Yuuri’s face.

Skittering away on polished floorboards, Yuuri fled the room, unsure of where he was going -he found himself in a lounge room, and immediately decided that cramming himself under the couch was a good option. Viktor walked into his lounge, wondering about his dog’s odd behaviour. He sweetly called for Makkachin, seeing the chocolate poodle’s rear end splayed out from under the couch.

 

“Makka! What’s gotten into you? Hmm?” He asked, bending at the waist and pulling the dog out from under the Ikea furniture. He hugged the dog close, uncertain as to Makka’s tense form and still-growing-weirder behaviour. “How about some breakfast, hmm?” Viktor said happily, walking into the connected kitchen with Makka still trapped in his arms, doggy legs and tail dangling.

 

Yuuri wasn’t sure how to respond, giving a rough boof when he tried to speak. The arms of his idol were wrapped around his chest, his back pressed into warm and glorious pectorals. Viktor Nikiforov was speaking to him in that delightfully thick voice. Yuuri Katsuki was in Viktor Nikiforov’s home.

He was placed on the ground, right as his mind got around to how the home smelt of something that could only be described as Viktor, and not long after a metal dog dish of brown meat was put in front of him.

Yuuri might have been in Makkachin’s body, but there was no way in hell he was eating dog food.

 

Viktor became very concerned when even after he twice refused Makkachin’s standard begging for some of Viktor’s breakfast the poodle still wouldn’t touch his own meal. Viktor fed his best friend top brand dog food, and specifically bought the flavours the poodle was more enthusiastic about, so why was Makka turning his nose up today.

Idly, he wondered if it was a passive protest in light of the bath fiasco yesterday, that involved a cracked shampoo bottle leaking its contents all over the floor, every towel in the bathroom getting pulled into the bath (which left Makka to be dried with Viktor’s towel), and soap suds on the hanging light pendant.

He left Makka to decide whether he would eat and went to dress, shower, and do the laundry among other chores. Usually Makka would be present and panting while the washing machine was being loaded, and pawing at Viktor’s pants while he wiped his bathroom down, but this morning even after forty-five minutes of cleaning and laundry and dusting, including the vacuum cleaning, Makkachin had still not touched his breakfast -and not hidden in Viktor’s bed when the ever-feared vacuum cleaner made its rounds of the apartment.

 

But finding Makkachin staring very dazedly at the medal and trophy cabinet in the living room, the cabinet that had been previously ignored beyond a sniff, was the final straw. “Okay buddy, we’re going to the vet,” Viktor said, grabbing the brown leather leash from the coat stand next to the door. Makkachin’s eyes regained clarity and the poodle fearfully backed away, continuing his half-hearted scoot until Viktor wrangled him and clipped the leash on.

 

Once outside, Yuuri was very much falling in love with Russia, there was sun shining and soft piles of snow on the street corners. The buildings were different looking to the ones in Japan that he’d grown up with, making such an amazing impression.

He was so entranced that he didn’t realise Viktor had walked him into a vet clinic until the sterile scent hit him full in the face. Viktor must regularly bring Makkachin in for nail and fur clipping, Yuuri thought as he was led down a short corridor and into an exam room. Prompted to jump up onto the metal table, the nerves started to set in, and worried whines rang through the small room. A young vet came in through a back door, the barking and meowing of contained animals echoing through the open doorway. She had a sweet smile and greeted Viktor with familiarity, confirming Yuuri’s thoughts. They exchanged a few words, Yuuri not paying attention as he nervously watched Viktor and leaned into his soft hands petting him. The young vet checked him over with her hands, gently pressing at his sides and stomach, opening his mouth and checking his teeth before a horrendously familiar object was brought into view.

A thermometer,

A _rectal_ thermometer.

Oh no

_Oh no_

_Fuck off, not happening_ , Yuuri barked moving backwards until his ass was pressed right up against the wall, tail firmly between his legs.

 

 

Six years later, Viktor and Yuuri were tangled in white sheets together, golden rings glinting in the sunlight, a brown poodle snoring at their feet. A cup of coffee was steaming on the left bedside table, steadily filling the room with the homely scent of black forest coffee. Viktor pressed a wet kiss to the largest purple mark on his fiance’s neck, then peppering smaller kisses all over the red dots in memoriam of last night.

“Viktor!” Yuuri huffed, rolling over. He threw his face into Viktor’s now familiar chest, inhaling slowly that soft scent that follows Viktor around. Viktor laughed, chest rumbling with the noise, Yuuri pressing closer with his cheek to grasp at the vibrations.

 

“Little piglet, perhaps we should get up, hmm? Have breakfast?” Viktor asked, and when Yuuri didn’t immediately reply he slyly pinches Yuuri rear. In retaliation, the Japanese man sunk his teeth into Viktor’s left pectoral, leaving another purpling mark as he pulled away and frowned at his fiance. The Russian man had thrown his head back, tensing around his fiance and opening his mouth in a tiny silent moan. “We need to get up now or we’ll never do it,” Viktor said, voice rough. “Makkachin, go and make breakfast,” he jokingly told the poodle, who raised his head and yawned. Yuuri snuffled and sat up, staring at Viktor with hard eyes.

 

“That dog will never have to do another thing in his life, I know what that vet does!” Yuuri declared vehemently, patting the bed until Makka moved forward and was happily snuggled in Yuuri’s arms, Viktor dejected next to them.

 

_“Yuuri, dear, I have apologised so many times! I didn’t know it was you at the time!-”_


	2. Holy ****-Biscuits My Soulmate is Yuuri!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now with Viktor as Vicchan and these two perfect idiots coming together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Less funny (like not funny) but here is Viktor as Vicchan briefly, and then some perfect coming-togetherness!  
> Let me know what you think! And what you'd like to read next!

Viktor first switched when he was fourteen. He had been practicing, doing jump drills with Yakov yelling improvements at him -and then he was being held like a baby in warm arms.  
Presumably his soulmate, the other half of his heart as Viktor’s parents had briefed him, was holding his best friend -which in Viktor’s mind made few options viable. His soulmate’s best friend was either an animal, or a baby, which Viktor supposed was pretty sweet.

Moving his hands to his face for investigation, Viktor found large, floppy brown paws, not unlike those of his own best friend, Makkachin, who was at home. Beyond the paws, was a smiling face, young and chubby, with deep brown eyes behind blue glasses. Viktor felt his heart swell and warm with new love for his soulmate. The boy above him was smiling, as he stood and carried Viktor presumably out of the room they were in. 

Viktor relaxed into the gentle swaying and was content to observe and study his soulmate for the next however long. They reached a door that was gently toed open, and Viktor was placed on the floor where he fumbled a little on four legs. Nevermind the leg situation, Viktor found that he had been brought into the strangest room of his existence. His own face was all over the walls, even on a pillow perched on the bed. Hell, even patches of the ceiling had posters of him skating, and was that a framed photo Viktor saw on the desk?!

He wandered about the room, eyes wide with all the sights and knowledge gained from his soulmate. A clear fan, which made Viktor strangely embarrassed, but also a skater, if the small skates in the corner were anything to go by. A pair of ballet shoes, tied together were hung over the back of a computer chair, where a sports bag rested, a glittery sleeve poking out. 

Curious, Viktor hopped on his short legs and nipped the sleeve with a little yip. 

“Viktor!” The boy (whose name was still unknown) yelped. Viktor looked up alarmed. How did his soulmate know his name in this form? The boy of Asian descent grabbed Viktor around the middle and snuggled him close, where Viktor could hear the wet thumping of a heart to be familiar. “Vicchan, don’t chew my costumes, they’re expensive! And you already ate the leg of one the other week!” The boy said, sitting on his bed still cradling his soulmate unknowingly. Viktor barked out a laugh, and couldn’t resist leaning up and covering his soulmate’s face with sloppy dog kisses.

When Viktor was back in his own body, he was lying face down on the rink, cold all over, but warm in his chest. Mila was skating in lazy circles around him, and Viktor could hear Yakov berating the beginning juniors echoing off the walls of the rink.

He goes home, greets his mama and papa in a daze, and lies on his bed with little puppy Makka, everything he learned going through his mind. His soulmate is a boy from Asia, by the looks of it younger than Viktor. His soulmate was a skater and a dancer. His soulmate had a puppy just like Makkachin, who was called Viktor. His soulmate was a fan of his. He was already hopelessly in love with his soulmate and everything he knew made him fall deeper.

Viktor switched thirty-one more times over the next few years, most of which were with his soulmate, who lived in Japan and had grown into a gorgeous teen going adult. There was still a lovely roundness to his cheeks and the idolisation of Viktor only appeared to have gotten stronger over the years if the evolution of posters was anything to go by- but Viktor still didn’t know his soulmate’s name.

The Grand Prix pushed all ideas of his soulmate from his mind, and only once it was finished did he allow himself to relax and stroll through the building with thoughts of those brown eyes and inky hair tugging at his mind. That hot feeling in his chest settled warmly, like when Makka dozes on top of him on the couch.

Idly conversing with Yuri Plisetsky about his jumps, Viktor felt eyes on him-

Holy fuck

He knew those eyes, those swirling pools of melted chocolate behind blue frames

Holy fuck shit damn son shit-

He’s losing interest-

Fucking shit!

Say something!

“A commemorative photo? Sure thing!”

Wrong move-

Shit

Those eyes went downcast and the owner turned away, the other half of Viktor’s heart walking away dejectedly.

 

“Nice one, asshole,” Yuri snorted from behind him. “Not knowing your own competitors, real charming.”

Viktor was later informed that the drunken mess at the banquet with the stunning moves was the sixth placer in the mens division. 

Yuuri Katsuki of Japan.  
After a night of poledancing and dancing and drinking, Viktor woke early and tumbled down the hotel stairs to the lobby, hoping to catch his soulmate sober, to give him his number, to kiss him, to tell him he loved him-

But Yuuri Katsuki had left.

And Viktor didn’t switch again.

 

After practice one day, Viktor is sitting next to Yuuri on the floor of his room, playing cards with the younger man. His mind has been plagued with awful thoughts of soulmates since the Grand Prix, and since meeting the man who holds that other half of his glass heart, Viktor has been in ruins when nobody's watching.   
He hadn’t switched, and after the debacle at the Grand Prix, Viktor wouldn’t be surprised if the bond had snapped. 

And he was alone forever.

“I win! Another secret Yuuri,” he purred, throwing his cards down and looking at the blushing man next to him. 

“You must be cheating, Vicchan-” Yuuri began to lighthearted complain before he paled and his hands rose to his face.

“Yuuri- Yuuri it’s okay- I kno- Yuuri!” Viktor attempted to calm his love, but Yuuri was beginning to shake and tears were starting to drip down his nose. The Japanese was babbling rapidly in a hazy mix of languages, Viktor barely picking out many words.

“Sorry- I miss- I can’t believe- not there,” he caught before Yuuri abruptly stopped speaking and slumped forward into Viktor’s arms. 

He was completely unresponsive, even his heartbeat had stilled. Eyes didn’t flicker in dream, chest didn’t heave with the press of live within. Yuuri’s fingers didn’t twitch as they often do, and his body was a dead weight against Viktor’s chest, growing colder by the second. The only movement was the steady drip of tears from Yuuri’s paling face to the fabric of Viktor’s comfy pants.

“Yuuri! Yuuri! Wake up… Yuuri,” Viktor yelled, cried, and sobbed as Yuuri stayed still. His chest was tight, he couldn’t breathe, and tears were like lava on his cheeks, yet no matter how hard he begged, Yuuri wouldn’t wake up. 

Makkachin came shyly into the room, Viktor barely noticing his best friend as he pressed Yuuri’s heavy body into his chest like a teddy bear. His nose was in Yuuri’s hair, and his tears were still falling into black locks. 

Makka whined, prodding at the floor with his front paws, and making distraught noises in the almost quiet room. Viktor pushed at the dog when he came close and started pulling at Viktor’s pants with his teeth.

“No Makkachin, Yuuri-” Viktor broke off, holding Yuuri closer as Makka padded forward again and forced himself between Viktor and Yuuri’s lifeless body, licking at his masters tears with soft whines. 

“Makka-”

And then Yuuri was stirring, life suddenly running through his body as he sat up. Viktor was admittedly rude in pushing Makkachin off his lap, but all he could think was “Yuuri”.

Viktor had Yuuri in his lap in seconds, lips all over his face, drying tears and wet skin forgotten. His heart couldn’t handle another scare like that- his soulmate unresponsive and weak and cold…

“Viktor…” Yuuri mumbled, as a kiss was pressed precariously close to his mouth.

“You left me Yuuri, you left me… I was alone…” Viktor whispered, bumping their foreheads together with a huff as his heart finally began to slow.

“I never left you, silly,” Yuuri said, tears threatening to make a reappearance. He nodded to Makka, lazily panting next to them. “I was with you the whole time.”

 

T  
here was nothing on the planet that could have stopped Viktor from kissing Yuuri then, molding their bodies together and pulling the smaller man to the floor in the flurry of happy laughter and joyous tears. 

 

Half an hour later, Viktor was holding Yuuri in his arms, refusing to relinquish his grip even when the latter needed to pee- Viktor merely forced him to awkwardly hold hands through the bathroom door. 

“You switch with Makka?” Viktor asked, nose in Yuuri’s hair. Yuuri was kissing Viktor’s hand, but paused to answer.

“Yes, first time was in the morning. You took me to the vet.” Yuuri stated, in an even tone of voice.

“Oh?” Viktor frowned. Makka rarely had to go to the vet for much besides a little checkup every six months. He thought back to any impromptu visits in the morning-

“Ah. In fairness, Makka always scarfs down his breakfast and doesn’t try to hide under the furniture, even when the vacuum is out,” Viktor said into Yuuri’s neck, smooching the skin happily.

“They took my temperature, Viktor.” Yuuri responded. Viktor hurried to calm the rapidly tensing Katsudon bowl in his arms. “They shoved a thermometer up my ass Viktor! Viktor! Stop laughing!! Viktor!”


End file.
